


Biting Cold

by MaliceManaged



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avenger Loki, Blood, Blood and Gore, Canon Divergence - Post-Thor (2011), Canon-Typical Violence, Casual Murder, F/M, I Have A Bloody Imagination, I can't help it, I do what I want, Jötunn Loki, Not Canon Compliant, Persistent Loki, Protective Loki, Secrets, Tags may be added, Timely Rescues, Unwanted attention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 15:39:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7469295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaliceManaged/pseuds/MaliceManaged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A moment's whim. That's all it was. But if he had known where it would lead; would he have made a different choice?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Unlikely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, my dreams ran away with me again. I don't even know why I bother anymore.

    She was being polite. Loki could tell that at first glance as he watched from a distance. It was there in the way she faked a smile or a slight laugh at his comments or supposed jokes, or the way she hid her revulsion to his touch when he reached to touch her arm again and expertly pulled it just out of reach to brush a stray wisp of her black hair out of her face. And the man was completely oblivious to it; he genuinely thought he had a chance with her. Loki had to commend her patience; _he_ already wanted to wring the man’s neck, and he wasn’t the one being accosted. After a while he decided this had gone on long enough; he began walking towards them, snatching a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, and came to a stop just before them.

 

    “I do hope I haven’t kept you waiting long,” He said with complete familiarity to her the moment she looked at him, extending the glass towards her.

 

    She caught on immediately and grabbed the glass, smiling. “Well, maybe a little,” She replied a bit teasingly.

 

    Loki breathed a laugh and turned to the confused looking man next to him. “My thanks for keeping my lady company,” He said with perfectly practised politeness.

 

    “Oh, uh, sure,” The man said, not altogether successful in hiding his disappointment.

 

    With a quick nod in the man’s direction, Loki turned to her and offered his arm, which she took without hesitation, and led her away. Once they were lost in the crowd she let out a sigh of relief that he chuckled at, prompting her to laugh lightly in response.

 

    “Gods; _thank you_ for that,” She said earnestly once they reached a less populated corner of the room, “I was one touch away from making him swallow his glass.”

 

    Loki laughed. “Well, if I had known I might have delayed a little longer,” He replied amusedly.

 

    “Ah, well, while it certainly would be satisfying; the sudden lack of employment it’d probably gain me would be less so,” She said in mock-seriousness.

 

    “Oh, that simply wouldn’t do,” Loki replied in kind. “I’m Loki Friggason,” He introduced himself, taking her hand that had just recently left his arm and bringing it up to his lips; he successfully suppressed a smirk at the slight pink that dusted her porcelain cheeks as he lightly bussed her knuckles.

 

    She cleared her throat slightly, collecting herself. “Morrigan Ashbourne,” She replied steadily with a slight smile.

 

    “A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Loki said as he released her hand. “May I ask what it is that you do?” He asked curiously, more to try and find out what she was doing in this particular party.

 

    Morrigan turned slightly to face the room. “You see that man over there making a fool of himself to Mr. Stark?” She began, indicating the man in question - a middle-aged Japanese man in a dark suit - with her glass, and Loki nodded before looking back at her, “I’m his interpreter.”

 

    Loki cocked his head to the side slightly. “I’m sorry; I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the term,” He confessed.

 

    “Well, he barely speaks English,” Morrigan explained, “So, I translate what he says to others and what is said to him. Which is what I _would_ be doing, but he gave me the evening off.”

 

    Loki hummed in understanding. “I imagine such a service pays rather well,” He commented.

 

    “Oh, if you find the right employer, it pays _very_ well,” Morrigan replied before taking a sip of her champagne, “The advantages of being multilingual.”

 

    “I can imagine,” Loki laughed, “How many language _do_ you speak?”

 

    Morrigan laughed a bit. “A _few,”_ She replied vaguely, “Though I’m sure I’ve got nothing on _you.”_ Loki looked at her questioningly and she smiled. “Yours isn’t exactly a common name, and I do pay _some_ attention to the news,” She said then smiled teasingly, “Tell me; do the Avengers always swoop in to save damsels in distress, or is that an asgardian thing?”

 

    Loki laughed unrestrainedly at that. “Well, I’m a prince before an Avenger; I was raised a certain way,” He replied, “My mother would be quite disappointed if I hadn’t acted.”

 

    “Ooh, well we can’t have _that,”_ Morrigan said, placing a hand over her heart, “Terrible thing; disappointing our mothers.”

 

    “Indeed; only a monster would willingly do such,” Loki replied with a nod.

 

    “So, then; whatever can I do to thank my saviour?” Morrigan asked emphatically, earning a grin.

 

    “Well,” Loki began, offering her his hand, “You can grant me a dance.”

 

    Morrigan smiled and placed the flute down on the nearest surface. “I’d be delighted,” She replied, placing her hand in his.

 

 

    As she closed the door to her hotel room behind her, Morrigan smiled; she had resigned herself to a boring evening of pointless polite conversations and dodging wandering hands, but instead found she’d enjoyed herself immensely. It had been a very long time since she had met someone _half_ as charming and engaging as Loki was, and she found it to be very refreshing. As she slipped out of her low black heels and unzipped the back of her red dress, she found she couldn’t keep the smile off her face and she laughed at herself.

 

    “Honestly, Morri; you’re acting like a schoolgirl with a crush,” She chastised herself, “He’s probably forgotten all about you already.”

 

    With that in mind, she pulled the pins out of her hair and let it fall loosely down her back then went into the bathroom to remove the little makeup she was wearing. She carefully took out the amber coloured contacts she was wearing and looked up at her reflection, red eyes blinking back at her, the light overhead reflecting off of them as she moved.

 

    “Anyway; it’s for the best,” She said with a slight frown.

 

    She left the bathroom and slipped off her bra, tossing it aside carelessly, then took out a black satin slip from the dresser and put it on. Checking to see that the curtains were tightly drawn, she slipped wearily into bed and pulled the sheets and comforter completely over herself before drifting off to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

    Loki was usually on his best behaviour these days. Which admittedly wasn’t as good as most would like, but he _was_ called the God of Mischief, after all; one could only expect so much. But the fact that he didn’t act out on his whims born of boredom or curiosity as much didn’t mean he had any less of such. It was that that led him to procure the guest list for Stark’s party and look up the name of Ms. Ashbourne’s employer; once he had that, it was a simple matter to make sure he would be present when negotiations between the man’s company and Stark Industries would take place. He was, after all, among other things, an expert negotiator; Miss Potts was in fact glad for the offer.

 

    He realised it was a rather convoluted way of seeing Morrigan again, but that was part of the fun, and he was looking forward to seeing her reaction. Loki couldn’t deny he was curious about the woman; there was something about her that just _drew_ him in. It wasn’t her beauty, although she certainly had plenty of that, nor the grace with which she carried herself.

 

    It was her eyes, he realised the more he thought of it as he lay awake that night waiting for sleep to claim him. There was something about her eyes. Not their colour, which he noticed upon closer inspection as they danced was artificial. No, it was something in the way she looked at things; a slight inflection at the back of her eyes that made her seem... _older_ than she appeared to be. And he decided he wanted to find out why that was.

 

 

    Morrigan was not very pleased. Apparently the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign had fallen off her door, and she was woken up when the very surprised housekeeper pulled the covers of her bed back, having not heard his knocking before he went into the room. It took all she had not to lash out at the poor man, but restrain herself she had; it wasn’t his fault that she slept like the dead and hated being woken up, after all. Two minutes after the housekeeper had left, her alarm went off and she was very tempted to throw her phone against the wall. Instead; she got out of bed, took a quick shower and was dressed in a black pencil skirt, ivory blouse and black heels and out the door in five minutes. She elected not to wear makeup today and to simply let her hair fall in its loose waves down her back, not wanting to bother with it beyond brushing out the tangles.

 

    At the hotel lobby, she met up with her employer with a bow and a quick and polite ‘Ohayou gozaimasu’ before following him to the car that would take them to the meeting with Stark Industries’ CEO. The drive was mostly silent, filled only with business chat here and there; Morrigan rather liked Mr. Inoue, but she made a point of keeping their relationship strictly professional. She didn’t do well with personal relations and attachments where something she avoided like the plague.

 

    Outside the conference room Morrigan stopped short for a second; standing next to Miss Potts was none other than the God of Mischief-turned-Avenger himself, and the hint of a satisfied smirk that upturned a corner of his lips at her hesitation, momentary thought it was, told her he had been expecting exactly that reaction. Morrigan mentally shook herself and slipped firmly back into her professional demeanour as she and Mr. Inoue reached them and the proper introductions were made, her confidence returning in full as the meeting progressed.

 

 

    Morrigan had to hand it to Loki; the man was a shrewd negotiator. She might even call him ruthless is he wasn’t so pleasantly diplomatic about it. By the time the meeting was over, she was well aware her employer’s company had given far more than was originally intended but Mr. Inoue was so charmed by the god he didn’t seem to have noticed. As the contracts were signed she stood by the window overlooking the city, her services not really needed at the moment, and she felt him come to stand beside her.

 

    “You know, you could have just asked for my number,” Morrigan said, not taking her eyes off the skyline.

 

    “I was going to, but you disappeared quite quickly after your employer informed you he was turning in for the night,” Loki replied.

 

    “I do that.”

 

    “And if I were to ask for it now...?”

 

    She looked at him then, her smile a hint apologetic. “I’m going to have to disappoint you.”

 

    “Something less invasive, then?” Loki suggested, “Let me buy you a drink.”

 

    Morrigan breathed a laugh. “I don’t drink when I’m working.”

 

    “Tonight? I rather doubt you’d be needed then.”

 

    “Are you always this persistent?” Morrigan laughed.

 

    “Only when I’m interested,” Loki replied with a grin.

 

    Morrigan looked back out the window, debating. On one hand, she knew the risks of getting invested; they were deeply ingrained in her memory. On the other hand, she really quite liked Loki. And it was just a drink; what harm could it do? She’d be flying back to Japan in a day anyway, two if Mr. Inoue decided to do a little more sight-seeing; he _had_ mentioned wanting to get souvenirs for his grandkids, she remembered. She drew in a breath and exhaled sharply, coming to a decision, and turned back to him. “Alright, then; tonight. Say, eight?” She asked.

 

    “If it’s convenient for you,” Loki replied.

 

    “Eight, then. Where do you want to meet?”

 

    “Not your hotel?” Loki asked curiously.

 

    “I’d really rather not,” She replied, “I like to keep my business and personal life separate; which includes not meeting anyone wherever my boss is.”

 

    “I can respect that. Would you prefer I simply gave you the address? We could meet there.”

 

    “That works,” She replied with a smile.

 

 

    That evening Morrigan stood before her bathroom mirror checking her makeup; she’d decided on black lipstick and smoky eyeshadow that really highlighted her almond shaped eyes. She had no idea why she did that, she was almost done before she realised she _had._ She hadn’t really intended to do anything special, deciding to wear a simple grey satin blouse and a black knee-length A-line skirt. She shrugged and ran her hands quickly through her hair, fluffing it up slightly, then turned and left the room, slipping on her heels and grabbing her purse along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Ohayou gozaimasu' = Japanese for 'Good morning'; used more in formal/professional situations.


End file.
